Soft Kitty
by LittleSnidget
Summary: James' family and closest friends are the only ones that know of his true nature. When the clan opens their arms to embrace a new member, James finds himself oddly trusting of the new addition. Follow James's journey through Hogwarts, his ups and his downs, and of course, all the Weasley-Potter family dramas. I suck at summaries, but please do read.
1. Chapter 1

**Soft Kitty**

**Rating: **T

**Warnings: **Suggestive language (But its only normal teenage talk), Mentions of gay sex (but no descriptions, and it is only friends teasing other friends about it), coming out of the closet, slash pairings, blah blah blah. Normal teenagers would be fine with all of it, but if you are overly innocent or something, then maybe not. Oh yeah, and it can get quite fluffy, but that is just how I roll.

**World: **Next generation

**Summary: **James' family and closest friends are the only ones that know of his true nature, because the Weasley-Potter clan have no secrets. When the clan opens their arms to embrace a new member, James finds himself oddly trusting of the new addition. Follow James's journey through Hogwarts, his ups and his downs, and of course, all the Weasley-Potter family dramas.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything recognisable as part of the Harry Potter universe. All I own are my original characters and this storyline. I don't get any money from this at all.

**Author notes:** This is written for my best friend, because I promised, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUDE. My version of James might be a little different to others. He is still the prankster JK Rowling described, but I like to think he has a softer side that a lot of fan fictions seem to skip over. Please enjoy and reviews would be really helpful for my improvement as an author. Thanks guys.

~LittleSnidget

oooOooo

Huddled in one corner of the carriage, most people would not have noticed the three boys plotting and scheming. Had it not been for Peter's unfortunate baby blue hair, and Fred's hair being a bright tangelo, they could have gotten away with what they were planning, but all three knew someone would spot them, and the duo's distinctive appearances would get them in trouble. However, that was what they lived for, James, in particular. He liked people to know it was his idea, his prank, his genius. Of course, there were times when the entire school would know it was them, but there was not enough evidence for punishments as long as the boys denied it. Those were always the best pranks. The only problem with this lifestyle that James had chosen was that all people ever seemed to see him as was this rebellious troublemaker, whose dad happened to be the all mighty Harry Potter. It was only the people within the confines of the carriage that knew of his other side. The side he liked more, but could never take on permanently. He was a prankster, but with enough care and concern to rival Molly Weasley I.

His softer personality set aside, James smiled as he looked at the contraption before them. Fred had managed to persuade his father to let him 'experiment' with one of the unreleased Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products - being perfectly honest, it did not, in reality, take much to persuade George at all. Placing his palm on his forehead in realisation, Peter gasped. "We just need to do this," he said, keen eyes focusing on a golden wire in the middle of the dismantled object. Skilfully moving, his hands, with great care and precision, reached into the heart of it. Whatever he was doing looked difficult and complicated to the other boys, but they trusted Peter. He was, after all, the smartest boy in their year. He did not look it; with the bizarre combination of oriental facial features and his trademark verdant green hair, he looked nothing short of ridiculous. Certainly, his short stature, and tiny frame did nothing to help his case either. But his twig-like fingers moved carefully, following the instructions of his brilliant mind. Fred and James knew they were lucky to have Peter, especially with this plan. The product Fred had borrowed was a tiny golden snitch, but with a twist. If it was caught by the person the enchanter had chosen, it would explode. Fireworks would light up the sky, and the worst part was the stench. It was enchanted to release the most disgusting vapour imaginable, personalised to be particularly horrific for the chosen victim. Fred, however, had told his father this was not enough to make it worthy of the shelves of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and had said that he; Peter and James would make improvements. Thankfully, James had inherited his mother's excellence in charms, and had been able to make it bigger, and consequently easier to work with.

With a flick of his wand, Peter grinned and gestured towards the snitch. "Done. When that thing explodes, not just fireworks and bad smells with come out. It will start screeching out the worst words known to mankind," laughing, the boys high fived, getting strange looks from the rest of carriage's inhabitants. The trio were sat on the left hand side, by the window, with Peter crouching on the floor, but the rest of the carriage was filled with family and friends. Opposite were the Scamander twins, going through photos, presumably from their latest adventure holiday with their parents. The Scamander twins were so strange in themselves that they probably would never find anything anyone else did even slightly abnormal; they just appeared to be surprised by the sudden outburst. Next to them, but a little way down, was Rose. She had been having a hushed conversation with Albus, whom was sat opposite to her. Finally, between Albus and the trio, was a rather uncomfortable looking Scorpius Malfoy, who had been listening to the conversation unravelling next to him. He was an extremely new friend of theirs, having only just met them. "Life goes on," Fred prompted, looking pointedly at his cousins and friends. Once the others had looked away, and continued their conversations, Fred turned back to look at Peter, "You are amazing, Peter Smithe, your mother really is the brilliant Cho Chang, isn't she?"

Blushing, Peter awkwardly rocked back onto his heels and shrugged. Shaking his head in amusement, James snickered. "We better show George first, before the train leaves and we miss our chance," James whispered. Nodding, Fred tapped the snitch with his wand, watching it close up once again, and reduce to its normal size. Fred looked out of the large window, and scanned the crowds for his tall father, spotting him quickly. Picking up the ordinary looking snitch, he grinned and waved it at his father, who appeared to chuckle to himself. Angelina and Fred's younger sister Roxanne, however, looked at each other quizzically, both knowing just how much mischief the three boys could get up to. "Ok," Fred said softly as he turned around, "time to test it out, I think…" looking at his watch he grinned an evil grin, "And guess which unsuspecting cousin will be doing final patrols before departure?" The three boys shared a secretive smile, before heading towards the carriage door. Fred, the leader of the pack, went first, closely followed by Peter. Just as James was about to leave, he heard a small voice call out to him. Pivoting on his heels, James looked at Rose, an eyebrow raised in question. "Just don't upset her too much; you know Teddy's here to see her off, don't embarrass her. Plus, it's her last year; don't make it too bad for her, yeah James?" James nodded at his beloved cousin, before joining Fred and Peter in the corridor. As James wandered over to the others, standing by a window facing opposite the platform, he spotted Victoire in the corner of his eye. "Target approaching," James murmured loud enough for his companions to hear. Fred gave Peter the nod. The boys were well-practiced in their art, and had several different tactical plans and manoeuvres at their fingertips. That day the boys had chosen a simple one; Peter would watch the 'target' and gently nudge Fred when she was within proximity. Fred would them set the 'trap', i.e. the snitch, and the boys would acknowledge the 'target' before returning to the carriage.

James stuck his head out of the window, trying to look casual, and Fred did the same. "So how was your summer Freddy? Miss me much?" he said teasingly. Fred laughed. The two had been inseparable over the holidays, spending almost every day at either the joke shop or James' house. They had had a lot of time to talk and make mischief as just the two of them. Peter had spent one-third of his holidays in Australia, visiting his father's family, a third in China visiting his mother's relatives that hadn't moved to England yet, and the rest doing homework. Fred and James had been amazed at how much closer they had gotten over the holidays. Many people did not seem to realise it, but the two of them had feelings, and needed someone to share them with. Fred had told James all about how he found his uncle Fred's things in the attic, and how his father had been a crying wreck for hours on end when Fred showed him them. James had told Fred about how lonely he felt all of the time when they were not together, and how much he hated being alone in half terms. It was when James told Fred this that the two realised how much they completed each other. Both boys found they were only truly happy when they were together. It was something they had discussed at great length in storerooms and hidden cupboards. Each boy knew so much about the other that they might as well have been brothers. Or better yet, twins. James remembered the stories his father had told him about Uncle George and his twin, Fred. They were troublemakers and pranksters at school too, and just as inseparable. Harry had told him that George liked having James around, because the two boys reminded him of him and his brother. When James thought about it, he could never imagine losing Fred. He could not picture a life in which Fred no longer existed, and he was alone. It made him realise just how much Uncle George must be hurting, even now. It was that summer that he spent with Fred that he came to understand why Uncle George did not want to talk about his brother Fred, because James would not want to either, if the same happened to him.

Interrupting his train of thought, Fred put a hand on his shoulder. James nodded. Both turned to face Peter, who grinned at them. Fred's hands were behind his back, holding his wand and the snitch. James, still looking at peter, used his peripherals to grab the snitch. Meanwhile, Fred and Peter were holding an everyday conversation about Quidditch, trying to keep up the pretence of just chatting in the corridor. James, still using his peripherals, brought the snitch to touch Fred's wand. As Victoire approached, Fred moved the wand, whilst calling out Victoire's name. Instantly, the Snitch whirred into life, wings unfolding and flying straight out of James' hand. Grinning, the three boys greeted the new head girl. "Victoire," Fred said in a normal tone, "nice to see you again. And who might this be?" James looked to see who Fred was talking about. Next to the towering Victoire was a rather small girl, with long black hair down to her waist, and inquisitive blue eyes. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Victoire placed her hand firmly on her hip. James saw Fred kick Peter sharply in the calf. He must have been Ogling Victoire again. Indeed, Victoire was tremendously beautiful, being one-eight veela. She had straight vanilla hair that went down to the bottom of her shoulder blades, and the trademark Weasley blue eyes. She was also relatively tall, at five foot eight inches, and had an amazing slender figure. But all of this did not excuse anyone from staring at her, or any other Weasley-potter girl for that matter, for too long when one of the Weasley-Potter boys were around. "This is Isabelle. She's a first year; I brought her down here because I thought she might like to join your carriage. But more to the point, what are you three doing out in the corridor five minutes before departure?" Victoire said sternly, with more than a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"Needed some air, if that's ok? Or is there a new rule against that?" Fred said in a sickeningly innocent voice. Sharply pivoting on his heels, Fred led his two friends, Victoire and Isabelle back to their carriage, leaving the snitch to hover just a meter or so to the left of their door. Inside the carriage, James and Fred went to resume their positions on the bench by the window, and Peter sat on the floor, his back leaning against the wall beneath the window.

"Guys this is Isabelle, be nice ok?" Victoire narrowed her eyes once again at the boys, before marching out of the carriage. Isabelle nervously swayed for a moment, before Rose gestured to the gap between her and the twins. Smiling gratefully, Isabelle took a seat. The twins suddenly excused themselves, in order to change early into their robes. Just as Rose was about to begin quizzing Isabelle, as she had no doubt done to Scorpius whilst the trio were in the corridor, a gargantuan explosion sounded outside the carriage doors, immediately a string of curse words in a booming voice began. What followed was an ear-piercing scream belonging to Victoire, and the beautiful sound of fireworks. James, Peter and Fred cheered and laughed, just as the train jolted to a start, slowing moving out of the station. Peering out the window, James spotted George in the crowds. It appeared that everyone outside had heard the commotion, and only George seemed to know what had happened. Everyone, however, were quick to realise what had happened when a very red-faced Victoire Weasley came storming into the carriage.

The tips her hair were singed black, and the small patches her face that were not bright red were covered in black soot. The trio did not even bat an eyelid when she began to scream profanities at them at the top of her voice. Instead, they chose to wave goodbye to their families, leaving Victoire standing behind them. It was only when she saw Albus in the corner that she stopped. He was hyperventilating at an alarming rate, his face red and blotchy, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. Victoire sighed, unsure whether it was her, or the train leaving that had caused his panic. "Rose, Scorpius, could you take Albus out to get some air, please. Don't worry Al, ok? Everything's going to be great, you have nothing to worry about," she said gently, trying to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. As soon as they had closed the door, she rounded on the boys in the corner. "Peter. Fred. You two are coming with me. I'm sure Dominique can think of a creative punishment for the pair of you. As for _you, _James, I will deal with you when we get to Hogwarts" she said before adding in a whisper, "and I need you to look after Isabelle," James nodded, patting Fred on the back as he stood. He felt bad allowing his friends to go alone to be punished, but he knew his own punishment would be much worse. It was only after a minute or two of silence that he realised what Victoire had meant about Isabelle. She knew about his caring side too; after all, he was the one that helped her to ask Teddy out in secret last year. It did not seem to matter to her now that he had revealed their relationship to the adults just an hour before on the platform. She wanted him to talk to Isabelle; make friends with her. That could not be too difficult.

"Hey there, my name is James, you're Isabelle, right?" he said with what he hoped was a warm smile.

"Yes," she replied quietly. Her small hands toyed with the hem of her pastel-blue jumper, which made her azure eyes seem even brighter than they already were. Slowly, she slipped off her black converse and curled her jean-clad legs underneath her, looking significantly more relaxed. "So where abouts are you from, Isabelle?"

"I lived in a small village in Buckinghamshire, on a farm, with my parents. My, err, father was a muggle farmer, and my mother was a ministry worker of some sorts," Isabelle explained, still refusing to look at James. She had beautiful voice, very well spoken and it wasn't high and childish like most other girls' her age, "What about you?"

"I technically live in London, but I don't really spend much time at my house. My dad's always wanted to move to Godric's Hollow, but there are never any houses for sale, and he's not allowed to fix up his parent's house because of some silly laws, it is meant to be a kind of war memorial, or something. Do you have any brothers or sisters?" James asked, hoping the trivial conversation would help bring her out of her shell.

"I had a little brother, called Isaac, he had magic too," I distant smile formed on her lips, "He was the one that made me become a vegetarian for three years, always going on about how cute animals were, and how they had personalities,"

"You're a vegetarian!?" James exclaimed. Having never met a vegetarian before, he found the thought intriguing. All of the Weasley-Potters would pretty much eat anything they laid their eyes on. Vegetarianism was simply out of the question; it narrowed down food choices too much for the food obsessed, extended family.

"No, not anymore. I don't eat beef, though. I had a pet bull, called Gwaihir. Every time I see beef, I can't help but think of him and his old girl, and then I just can't eat it. He was a great bull. He wasn't useful for anything after his mate, Bessie, died, because he just didn't seem to like any of the other cows. That's why my dad let me keep him. It didn't take long to train him to be tame, he even let Isaac and I ride him sometimes," she giggled at the memories, but all James could do was gape at her.

"You had a pet bull!" he whispered in awe. She grinned and nodded, her hair suddenly swishing into her face. The two laughed at her ridiculous appearance, and in between her fits of laughter, she managed to squeak out, "I must look like Cousin It!" James did not know who this Cousin It was, but he laughed anyway, her laugh was just so enchanting. It was not unlike a gentle harp being plucked to create the most soothing and beautiful tone.

In that moment, all he wanted was to hear that laugh again, for some strange, unfathomable reason. Groping inside his pocket, James searched for his secret weapon. It was something he and Fred had been developing over the summer, aided by advice from Peter in his frequent letters. Eventually, he found it. Raising an eyebrow in question, Isabelle studied the object in James' slightly oversized hands with an expression that could only be described as quizzical. It seemed like an ordinary lollipop, with a stick, and a round sweet that was red with white swirls. Having seen James' previous escapade, Isabelle was wary of the innocent-looking sweet before her. "It's a voice changing lollipop. Fred and I invented them. You suck on them, and then your voice changes. Sometimes it just lowers it, or makes it a permanent shout, and sometimes it will give you someone else's voice entirely," he said softly, with a proud smile on his cherry red lips. Whilst Isabelle inspected the lolly, James glanced out of the window, only to be horrified by the boy that looked back at him. His Jet Black hair was a dishevelled mess, and his chestnut eyes were framed by dark lines and heavy bags. Shaking his head in self-pity, James looked back at Isabelle, just in time to see her take the lollipop from his hand and place it straight into her mouth. Surprised at the sudden confidence, James giggled. "So, how's the lollipop, Isabelle?" he smirked.

"It tastes of… toothpaste that's too minty to be nice," she murmured, screwing up her face. Clearly, she could not hear her new found voice just yet, or simply hadn't noticed it. Normally, she had a medium-pitched voice, and was very well spoken. James couldn't help the cackle that escaped his lips at the husky drawl that had crawled out of her mouth. "What?" she asked, but that time, she must have heard it, for she too burst into fits of outrageous laughter? It was not until thirty minutes later that the effects of the sweet wore off, and the two could talk without giggling uncontrollably. From the way they were acting you would have thought that they had known each other for longer than an hour.

"James, you could be really successful with this. You must have plenty of ideas for sweets and pranks; are you planning on going into that line of business. I know your uncle, George, has that joke shop in Diagon Alley, are you going to work there?" Isabelle asked, with a look of genuine interest.

"No," James sighed, used to this assumption, having received it since the age of two, "I want to be a healer. I like the idea of helping people, making them better when their friends and family just can't. Jokes are just for fun, I don't think I'd ever make a career out of it, no matter how good people seem to think I am at it," Isabelle's face contorted into a look that James could not recognise. It was a mixture of fear, panic and humiliation. Before he could concentrate on the expression for too long, Isabelle abruptly rose from her seat and pulled her trunk from above her head.

"Sorry, James, but I think I should go and get my robes on," she called, whilst ferreting about her trunk, trying to find the correct things, "I make sure that they don't need any more adjustments before we get there," and with that, Isabelle swept out of the room, Hogwarts tie trailing on the ground behind her.

James leant back against the seat, allowing himself to sink slightly, before contemplating their brief time together. He had never told someone so much about himself so soon after meeting them. He usually hid behind his bravado and prankster front until he knew they were worth trusting. However, there was something about Isabelle that just made him feel instantly at ease. One thing that had caught his attention the most was the way she spoke of her home life. Why was she speaking in past tense? She said her mother_ was _a ministry worker, her father _was_ a muggle farmer and her brother _had_ magic too. Moreover, why on earth did he get that reaction when he started talking about becoming a healer? Pondering, James did not notice Lorcan and Lysander returning, carrying armfuls of the Quibbler magazine. Not until Lysander said in a voice a little too loud for such a small carriage, "Hi James, sorry we were gone so long. We decided to give out some Quibblers on the way back, want one?" James took one. He had always enjoyed reading the Quibbler; his father had received every edition since the second wizarding war, and kept them in boxes in the attic. When James had asked his mother about them, she said it was his father's way of paying tribute to all that Luna had done for him, and of course, to thank Luna's father for always believing him about Voldemort's return, even if he did try to hand him in. over the next twenty minutes, the rest of the original occupants of the carriage returned, all with their own excuses and apologies. It did not take long for a mass debate to begin. James, although he enjoyed teasing his family, and playing pranks on them, rarely joined in on the debates. He, of course, always listened in, but only contributed when he his point was valid and the moment was right. That was why he won so many of them. Today, however, James was content to swap places with Fred so he could huddle right in the corner with the Quibbler, still listening in to the debate raging around him.

oooOooo

T witching nervously in his seat next to Fred, James watched as first year after first year was called up to be sorted, silently cursing his family for having surnames so late in the alphabet. After an age of waiting, someone he knew finally got called. "Scorpius Malfoy," Professor Longbottom called, ignoring the murmurs that followed. As soon as the sorting hat touched the terrified boy's head it yelled, "Gryffindor!" much to everyone's surprise. James was relieved, but waited with baited breath for the next recognisable name. "Isabelle Peverell," James watched anxiously as his new friend tiptoed up to the stool, and the hat was lowered onto her head. For almost three minutes, the whole school sat in silence, waiting. James did not recall anyone taking this long to sort last year; then again, he had been a first year, silently panicking rather than listening. Eventually the hat gave a shout of "Ravenclaw!" James' jaw dropped and his eyes widened. How could she be in Ravenclaw? With James being in a different house _and _a different year, he would hardly get to see Isabelle at all. They had only just met, and already an enormous barrier had been placed between them. He watched her walk to her table, Victoire clapping and smiling like a proud mother-hen. Quickly, however, silence fell once more as Albus crept up to the stool, gingerly sitting, shooting fear-filled glances at his family in various houses. The hat took just seconds to decide that Albus belonged in Gryffindor. Immediately, a beam coloured Albus' face, and he practically sprinted toward the table. Thankfully, everyone's gazes had been drawn back to the stool when Albus threw himself at James. Wrapping his brother in a tight hug, James whispered, "I always knew you'd be a Gryffindor, Al," before releasing the smaller boy. The next of their friends to be housed was Lorcan, who was instantaneously placed in Ravenclaw. He was quickly followed by Lysander, who was unexpectedly placed with the snakes. Finally, it was Rose's turn, and you could hear a pin drop in the room, as every student and teacher listened for the house that would be home to the offspring of a Weasley and a Granger. No one in the Weasley-Potter clan was surprised when she went to join Isabelle and Lorcan on the Ravenclaw table. James sighed, his favourite (although he would never admit it) cousin and his new, and rather interesting, friend were both taken away from him. Glaring at the hat responsible, he couldn't help but wonder what made it decide that James was a Gryffindor; James could not remember ever being truly brave in his life. Even now, he was too scared of the minority of snooty Ravenclaws to go and talk to Rose, Isabelle and Lorcan.

**Author notes:** sorry if this sucked, it is unbeta-ed, but I have checked it thouroughly. As it is a birthday present, I will be uploading the next chapters asap. there will be six chapters for the six years James has left at Hogwarts. It was originally intended to be a one-shot, but after writing this (his second year) and it turning out to be about 4500 words... I thought I should upload it as a short story instead of a really long one shot. I hope someone notices the Lord Of The Rings refernce in the story, and the Big Bang theory reference in the title. The title will become clearer later on in the story. Please review if you can guys, I will be realy grateful, and will always reply if you have an account here :)

~LittleSnidget


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Looking at the table, James marvelled at the fact that even after three years at Hogwarts he still seemed to struggle to pick what to eat first at breakfast. Directly in front of his empty plate was a platter of toast, behind that was a platter of French toast, to the left was a bowl of baked beans, then a plate of sausages, to the right was a bowl of fried eggs – James was not sure why they were in a bowl – and next to them was a mountain of bacon. Furthermore, James knew there were other wonders hidden away from him by the dishes in sight. After a couple of moments of ravenous thoughts, James had a brilliant plan. It was the Quidditch trials today, and if he wanted to remain the Gryffindor seeker, he would need plenty of energy. At least, that was the excuse he formulated as he made a 'breakfast sandwich', with French toast as the bread, and bacon, egg, sausage, beans and some kippers he found behind the bacon as the filling. Smiling down proudly at his masterpiece, James began the delicate process of squashing it down to an appropriate for his mouth. "James," said a familiar voice, followed by an exasperated sigh, "how on earth are you going to eat that monstrosity?" twisting in his seat, right hand still squashing his breakfast, James looked up at Quidditch uniform-clad Rose. Instead of answering the question, for James did not know the answer, he patted the vacant space between him and Fred.

"Sit, Eaglet, and watch the master at work," Obediently, Rose sat on the bench, in fact, she straddled it in a rather unladylike fashion. Leaning back against Fred's side (Fred appeared too involved in his conversation about Quaffles with Albus to notice), she looked expectantly at her dark haired cousin. "Go on then," she prompted, crossing her pale, freckled arms over her chest.

Nodding, James gingerly scooped up the sandwich in his calloused hands. Deciding that the best plan of action was to move swiftly, James pulled the sandwich to his mouth and bit down quickly. However, as he did so, a fried egg burst, spraying his Quidditch trousers with yolk, baked beans dribbled out onto his arm, and half of the other fillings slipped out, thankfully, onto the plate. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, accompanied by raucous laughter from Rose, Fred and what appeared to be half of Gryffindor house. Much worse than the mess he had made of himself, was the mortifying, girl-like voice that had protruded from his lips. Of course, he should have known this would happen eventually. He had spent the summer watching and listening as the same happen to Fred. Even if he was the smallest in the year, Peter was actually the first to hit his change in first year; his growth spurt just did not last very long, but the voice breaking took months to end. Feeling his face burning, James waved his wand to clear up the mess, and hurried out of the Great Hall, head hanging in embarrassment. Marching purposefully, James hastily made his way toward the Gryffindor changing rooms hoping to find peace and quiet there.

oooOooo

There was a forceful gale coming from the east as James clambered onto his broom. However no complaints were heard, as they all knew that they needed to show resilience if they wanted to have a chance at being on the team. Try outs were going to be hotly contested this year, James thought as he glanced at the hopeful faces around him. Everyone was grouped in the positions they were trying out for. Albus, Fred, and two fourth boys years were going for beater and Peter, Scorpius, a sixth year boy and a fifth year girl were trying out for the two vacant chaser places. Dominique had already claimed one spot as chaser, being the new captain in her final year. At that moment in time, Dominique was testing the abilities of the two potential keepers, a scrawny looking second year girl and a complete contrast in the tall, broad-shouldered fourth year boy. Just then, James realised that there did not appear to be anyone else hoping to be this year's seeker. Chuckling to himself softly, James allowed himself to hover on his new broom for a moment, before gliding over to Albus and Fred.

"Looks like you have seeker in the bag, James," Fred grinned up at him. On the other hand, Albus was stood with a hunched back, fiddling with his broom in nervous anticipation.

"God Al, calm down! You aren't gonna to get anywhere fretting like this, you know," James said, making his brother startle slightly. Nothing more could be said on the matter, as the keeper trials were completed, and Dominique called for the chasers and beaters. Watching excitedly, James inwardly critiqued his fellow Gryffindors whilst Dominique gave them drill after drill to complete. Suddenly, something caught his eye; a glint of gold just above Fred's head. How could James have been so stupid? Of course Dominique was not going to let him be seeker without trialling him too. Immediately, James tilted his broom upwards, forcing it to ascend as fast as possible, his eyes locked on that one little glint in the sky. He heard the murmurs of confusion from his housemates, but ignored them, focusing on catching the snitch. The wind made his shaggy hair swirl around his head in a maddening fashion, but James forced himself to ignore it also, he had to get the snitch. He had to. It did not come as a surprise to anyone that James was not as academically brilliant as his cousins already at Hogwarts. Quidditch was James' future, and he knew that; there was no way that any of his academic subjects were going to get him anywhere. Soaring through the rapidly cooling air, James did not realise that the others had stopped. He did not realise that everyone was watching him with bated breath. He did not realise that they were even paying attention until he caught the little bugger and a tremendous round of applause and cheering began. Bewildered, James looked down at the Gryffindors below him with a small frown. Sadly, after just a moment, Dominique blew her whistle and the students dutifully returned to their drills.

Hovering, James watched and waited for another hour before Dominique was finished with the poor souls. James sighed with relief when he finally touched ground again, and began heading to the changing rooms, followed by the rest of the Quidditch team hopefuls. "And where do you all think you're going?" Dominique called.

"To get changed Dom, we do have other things to do today," Fred moaned.

"It's Dominique, Fred. I guess you guys don't want to know who is on the team this year then?" she said pointedly. Everyone turned round to look at her in shock.

"You've decided already, Dom?" Fred said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes. This year's seeker will be James, of course. Keeper is Ella, second year. Chasers are me, seventh year, Darcy, fifth year, Jonathon, sixth year. Beaters are Albus, second year, Fred third year. And before any of you complain, no one was chosen because they are friends or family; it is because they are the best. That is all, you can go," and with that, she swept off the pitch and into the girls' changing room. Grinning from ear to ear, James raced over to his cousin and brother, giving each a brotherly hug with great enthusiasm. Then they all turned to Peter, expecting to see him heartbroken and devastated that he didn't get in for a second year in a row. Contrary to their expectations, Peter stood with his hands on his hips and brilliant beam on his cold-chapped lips. "Looks like the Weasley-Potters are slowly dominating the Quidditch scene, eh?" the boys roared with laughter and began heading to the changing rooms.

"If you don't mind guys, I think I might stay to watch the 'claws; I promised Rosie I would," James called, already flying to the Ravenclaw stands to spectate.

Getting closer to the stands, James spotted three figures seated, watching the blue and bronze players walking on to the pitch. "James! Over here!" a faint voice called out. It was then that the figure sat at the front began waving wildly at him. After a moment, James was close enough to see that the waving person was Isabelle. His heart skipped slightly seeing her so excited to see him, but at the same time it dropped a little because he realised she was not trying out this year. Seating himself comfortably next to her on the bench and tucking his broom underneath, James looked at Isabelle, who was now watching the players carefully once more. "Quidditch not really your thing then, Isabelle?"

"No, no, I do enjoy Quidditch; I'm just not particularly good at it. My mother was a tremendous chaser, and my brother an enthusiastic beater. It seems I take after my father. Although I like watching Quidditch, chess is really more my game," she murmured, refusing to take her eyes off of the pitch. James noticed her eyes darken a little when she spoke. This was not unusual; Isabelle always appeared to lose her high spirits when she talked about her family. Putting that aside, James also turned his attention towards the pitch. "I didn't know Lorcan played Quidditch," James commented as he watched the mock game taking place. Isabelle simply nodded and continued to watch with her keen eyes. Following his red-headed cousin, James could not help but grin. He recognised the Rose's bank, dips, dives and passes; her week of summer tutoring whilst Fred was away appeared to have had a significant impact on her. It had taken Rose months to persuade James to teach her some of his skills, seeing as she was in a different house, but James was glad he had given in. Together they sat for two hours, until finally, the trials were over and it was time for lunch.

"Isabelle, I know a quicker way of getting down to the ground than the stairs," He said with a mischievous grin, waggling his broom in front of him.

"Oh James… I don't know… I mean…" Before she could make up an excuse, James picked her up and plonked her on the broom behind him.

"Hold on tight!" he yelled, his voice significantly lower than normal, perhaps an indication of how he would sound once the tortuous ordeal of voice breaking was over. Kicking off of the ground, a sudden tidal wave of air pounded his face, yet he loved it. They soared through the sky like a bird, no, like a dragon, looping and barrel-rolling their way across to the exits. During one of the greater loops, Isabelle's long, black hair tickled James' face, before sweeping back to float beyond her head. James couldn't help but watch it for a moment, marvelling at how elegantly it moved. With a broad grin, James looked at Isabelle, who was laughing and grinning back at him like a Cheshire Cat. Eventually, however, they reached the edge of the pitch, and their ride was over. Gliding slowly to the ground, James carefully stopped at the point at which he was crouching, but Isabelle could comfortably place her feet on the ground. Awkwardly dismounting, James turned to face Isabelle once more. She was gingerly moving strands of hair back to the correct places on her head, but giggling all the same. "You can really fly James!"

"Just one of my many talents," James lied with a bow.

"I'm sure it is," Isabelle said with a small smile, "come on; food time," she grabbed James' wrist and roughly tugged him until he was running beside her back up the steep hill to Hogwarts and the Great Hall.

oooOooo

Mealtimes were possibly some of the few times James was grateful that the school were trying to encourage house unity, for that meant that sitting at another house's table was not a strange or unacceptable thing to do by any means. In James' opinion, the best table to sit at other than his own was most certainly Hufflepuff. Not only was it the most welcoming table, but it was the home of his kindest cousins, Louis, a year above James, and Molly, two years below him. They had been discussing different broomsticks and their advantages and disadvantages, which, for a first year, Molly appeared to be very knowledgeable about. A debate had just begun about the advantages of learning to fly on a lower quality, or older broom, when James felt a cold hand on his shoulder. Twisting in his seat, James looked up to see a dishevelled, but excited looking Fred beaming down at him. "I have a plan," he said wiggling his eyebrows at him, before walking away towards Gryffindor tower, quickly followed by a curious James.

Inside their deserted dorm, the two boys sat on their trunks at the ends of their beds, which were opposite each other. "Dad sent me a new prank to test; it's this sweet that lets you breathe fire! It hasn't got a name yet. I didn't want to mention it until I got Peter to make the adjustments. If you tap the sweet with your wand and say the word or sentence you want it to write, then take the sweet, it will automatically write it as you breathe the fire!" Fred said in a blur of words.

"What is your point, exactly?" James asked, mildly confused, ignoring the strange twang that appeared in his voice for that moment.

"Well, it just so happens that this sweet dissolves in water. I don't think that girl, Hannah, in Ravenclaw could resist. So, at the next Quidditch match we..." the two boys moved closer, speaking in hushed voices as they formulated the plan, despite the fact that no one was there to hear it.

oooOooo

Fred and James raced into the Gryffindor changing rooms, panting, but with grins plastered on their faces. Quickly stuffing the marauders' map into the back of his trousers before someone could see it, James strolled around the corner to the female changing area, where the rest of the team were waiting for him and Fred. "What have you done now?" Dominique asked in a bored voice.

"Nothing, Dom. You know, it's so offensive that you always assume we're up to something; we're good and honest people," Fred replied with feigned innocence, it was he that spoke, because James was desperately trying to avoid embarrassing himself in front of the team. Dominique made the wise decision to pursue the matter no further, and instead continued with her attempt at a motivational speech.

"Gryffindor have won the Quidditch cup every year for seven years, and I do not expect that to change. We have trained hard, and put in all the effort we could. I don't want any complaints about minor injuries, age or the weather. Harry Potter defied all of these things, and at the same time defeated Voldemort. This also means I don't want to have to be dealing with any teachers coming to me about Quidditch stopping you from doing your homework. We can win this, and we will. Slytherin have been sloppy this year in training, I have seen it; so buck up and let's get going," If anyone else had said that, it might have been more motivational than it was, but Dominique's matter-of-fact ways and bluntness seemed to lessen the impact. Nevertheless, she was an excellent captain; therefore there would be no complaints. James allowed himself to drift to the back the group, next to Ella, the keeper. "How much did I miss?" he murmured with a furtive smile. Ella frowned before replying.

"She started going on about winning whilst we were getting changed. The actual speech had been going for… an hour? I think. Just a bunch of rambling about tactics, players, strengths, nothing you wouldn't know already." James chuckled softly and patted Ella on the shoulder.

"Good luck, you'll be great. And remember, everyone is nervous before their first game… and some are still nervous after loads," he added with a grin, eyeing Fred, whom was ringing his hands about his bat.

Purposefully walking onto the pitch, James looked up to the stands, his keen eyes scanning the crowds for the people who were essential to this match. Firstly, he found the brilliant blue hair belonging to Peter, whom was waiting in the stands to help, should he be needed. Whilst Dominique walked over to the Slytherin captain to shake hands, James studied the Ravenclaw stands, finding only one of the two girls he was searching for. Hannah-the-Ravenclaw-with-no-surname was slouched in her seat clearly not listening to the blonde next to her, who was animatedly talking about something that she must have found terribly exciting.

James did not see what Fred found so appealing about Hannah. She was an obnoxious brat who would rather tell you about how rich she was, and how she everything you could possibly want than actually get to know you. She was the daughter of one of James' father and his father's friends' biggest enemies from school, Pansy Brutus, her name was now, but James recalled it was once Pansy Parkinson. Hannah appeared to be just as dreadful as Harry had described Pansy to be. She mercilessly teased anyone she could without hesitation, mocking their appearance, their families and their intelligence. Somehow, Fred did not seem to recognise these actions, instead, he spoke of her undeniable beauty, her intelligence and how her mother had apparently 'turned her life around' and sounded 'really nice' in the daily prophet. Shaking his head in frustration, James went back to scanning the stands for the person he wanted to see most of all; Isabelle. She never failed to smile, cheer him on and laugh when he did somersaults to rid himself of boredom. Strangely, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Right, brooms at the ready. I need not remind you of the rules and the punishments for breaking the rules. Try to keep it clean and… well… just don't kill each other," yelled Longbottom, whom was standing in as referee for this match. Judging by the menacing looks on both teams' faces, his warnings fell on deaf ears. With a nod to each captain, he blew the whistle, and the game began.

oooOooo

James had been circling in the air for twenty minutes now, desperately trying to find the snitch. However, he reminded himself, the longer the game lasts, the more chance there is that their plan will be carried out during the match. Just ten minutes later, he saw the beginnings of their plan emerge. The slytherin team began to cough, even occasionally producing small amounts of smoke when they did. Chuckling deep in his throat, James watched and waited as slowly more and more smoke began to protrude from the mouths of the slytherins. Suddenly, one of them, the keeper whom was most likely Keegan Carrow, (a relative of the Carrow siblings who were teachers during the second wizarding war) let out a spurt of brilliant orange flame. The game ground to a sudden halt as teachers, players and students alike looked on in both astonishment and fear as one by one the slytherins began to uncontrollably breathe fire. Wasting no more time, James and Fred put their brooms into full speed and started to herd the bewildered slytherins like sheep so that they were positioned in front of the Ravenclaw stands.

Moving back, the admired their masterpiece as it unfolded. Gradually the fire they breathed started to stay in the air and form letters. "Different colours…," Fred murmured, "was not expecting that." Eventually, the letters were all formed and the slytherins returned back to normal, with only the occasional cough of smoke. Rather than checking that slytherins were ok, the entire school looked the words scrawled messily in the sky: Hannah Brutus, Date me? F.W. The words had not had time to fizzle out before the students and teachers were flicking their eyes between Hannah and Fred - it was not hard to figure out who F.W. was. After a few moments of silence, Hannah looked Fred in the eyes, even from the distance she was away from him, and said in a voice as clear as the Caribbean Sea, "No. Way. You. Ginger. Freak." Another silence followed as professor Longbottom flitted between slytherin players, checking that nothing had been hurt.

"As no injuries have occurred, the game shall continue, but Gryffindor team loses fifty points," he yelled, before reorganising the teams into starting position once more. James and Fred could feel the glares on their backs that they refused to meet; their ultimately pointless prank had made the scores equalise at 40 points each. As soon as the whistle blew, James kicked off the ground and soared straight above the rest of the players. He took a moment to gauge the reactions of the team and his friends in the stand that he could see. Everyone looked angry, except Ella, who looked disappointed. He reminded himself that it could be worse; they could be trying to kill him. Moments later, he saw the person he had been looking for since he walked on the pitch.

Isabelle was perched on the edge of her seat, craning her neck to watch him. He had not spotted her before, because she was sat in the Gryffindor stands, where most of his cousins appeared to have congregated. Her blue eyes were only just visible from such a height, but he thought he could see the excitement in them. The smile on her lips indicated that perhaps one other person had found the prank funny. All of a sudden, a glint of gold obstructed his view of Isabelle. It was the snitch. At full pelt he raced towards it, his hand already outstretched. He could hear the crowds buzzing a little louder, but more importantly he could hear the flapping of the Slytherin seeker's robes close behind him. Just as his opponent was at his waist, he began to fall back. A strange move, but James ignored it; it was more important to regain the trust of his team by catching the snitch than it was to worry about petty slytherins. His hand clasped the snitch, and he laughed in triumph, taking a moment to look up at the stands to Isabelle. Instead of seeing excitement and joy, he saw her face filled with fear, she was pointing at something and screaming his name. Spinning around, James saw it just before it knocked him unconscious. Lysander, a talented beater had managed to hit the bludger directly where he knew James would be. It was not a tactical move to help his team win, it was revenge.


End file.
